


the road not taken.

by trixiesmattel



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race (US) RPF
Genre: F/F, also very much insp by troye and kacey's 'easy' mv, blue jay au, kinda sad, kinda very sad i guess????, trixie is a cam girl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28298235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixiesmattel/pseuds/trixiesmattel
Summary: there are stories told about those who fall in love with the right people, at the right place and right time. but what about those who fall in love with thewrongpeople, meeting at the right place and right time.(or, in other words, kind of a 'blue jay' film au.......try not to expect a happy ending)
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	the road not taken.

**Author's Note:**

> _for k –_  
>  i’m thankful for our worlds colliding.  
> merry christmas.
> 
> _insp. vaguely by two songs, a film, many late-night conversations and self-growth._  
> 

The incessant dripping fell from the tap in the motel bathroom, beating against the cheap porcelain basin and echoing against the clashing static that sounded from the TV. The dull sounds made Trixie’s skin crawl, despite her mind being elsewhere – her brown hues stared directly at the aged wall in front of her, which bore a stain from where a painting obviously used to be. The texture of the panelling reminded her of the consistency of honeycomb and somehow perfectly matched the musty scent that the room held.

The lock clicked open at the sound of keys jangling from the other side. She tapped her clear high heels against the grimy carpet, her hands resting behind her on the mattress. The inexpensive plastered wood door creaked heavily, and Katya’s platinum waves cascaded over her shoulders as if it had been caught up in the night’s wind.

“Did you change your mind?” 

Trixie’s eyes stung and she could feel how the mascara of her lashes clumped together from the tears she had shed only minutes ago. She so desperately wanted to say ‘yes’, but her mind grappled with her mouth and she couldn’t verbalise a thing. The heaviness in her chest made her feel ill, causing her stomach to twist further with each breath.

“I got you something.” Katya sighed, digging around the crumpled plastic bag which she clutched so tightly that it left faint crinkled imprints in her palm. She pulled out a lollipop sucker, in Trixie’s favourite flavour – strawberries and cream.

She kicked off her combat boots, discarding them by the door before padding her way over to Trixie. Her blue hues had, too, been tainted with stinging blood shot veins. They’d both been crying.

Katya smelt like cigarettes – a scent that Trixie secretly adored, despite her constant nagging to quit. When she was younger, she would sit by her grandpa as he’d tell her stories with a cigarette hanging from his lips, and she’d covertly inhale the second-hand smoke, burning her lungs on the way down. But she never wanted Katya to meet the same cancerous demise that he had. 

The platinum blonde stood between Trixie’s legs and gently peeled the plastic wrapper off the hard candy. The Barbie always had a difficult time expressing her feelings and after two long years, Katya knew that all too well. She held the plastic stick, with the candy falling gently upon Trixie’s lower lip.

The honey blonde opened her plush mouth as she watched her girlfriend’s features. The lollipop slipped in, before closing in around it. She was happy to have her mouth preoccupied out of fear of saying something stupid. Her senses were enveloped by the sweetness that caused her cheeks to puff slightly as she held it there between her teeth.

Despite the silence of their own voices, it didn’t make the tension between them any less palpable. Katya’s callused fingertips tenderly found her girlfriend’s cheek.

Trixie pulled the candy from her mouth as Katya leaned down, a tear hitting her cheekbone at the slight change in elevation. She tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her cheek where the saltiness tainted her tastebuds momentarily as her gesture lingered there. 

“Say something before I go crazy.” Katya choked out a shaky breath.

Katya’s knees found either side of Trixie’s hips, straddling her as the mattress dipped down to meet them. 

Her pink fingernails barely skimmed her girlfriend’s jawline, tucking gently into her slightly matted hairline that met the back of her neck.

“What do you want me to say?” She breathed, almost begging to find the answers between Katya’s lips.

“Something,” She replied immediately. “Anything.”

Trixie held her close, feeling her eyes pool with that ever so humbling emotion of sadness, tinged with desperation to not let her go. “I can’t.” Every time she wanted to say something, it was as if she was caged in the soundproof booth of her mind where she was screaming, and yet she could barely articulate those emotions into actual sentences. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t trying – everything stopped her. From a young age, she’d closed herself off from feeling things so deeply and it was almost intimidating to be with someone who felt the full extent of their emotions.

Instead, Trixie inched her lips to meet Katya’s. Their kiss tread lightly at first, latent with hesitation. They had been kissing for 24 months and suddenly it was so much more desperate than any time prior. The essence of candy on Trixie’s tongue tangled with the heady taste of nicotine on Katya’s that beckoned her closer. 

Her girlfriend’s hands held either side of her neck, and despite her light touch, Trixie felt winded and dizzy with overwhelm.

“Tell me we can do this.” Katya whispered as she pulled back slightly. 

Trixie bit down on her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Her eyes were fixated on Katya’s own, as if she was frantically searching for answers there.

“We tried so hard, Kat.” The past tense made her own heart feel as though it was ripping in two. 

She’d always assumed that situations that hurt this badly weren’t the right thing to do, but somewhere deep down within her she knew this cycle couldn’t continue. It was a merry-go-round of chaos that grated away at both of their happiness. There are so many stories about the right people meeting, but at the wrong place or the wrong time. But they were just the wrong people, meeting at the right place and the right time. It was still just as easy to fall in love with the wrong person, but it was even more heartbreaking to come to terms with the realisation that they didn’t fit together in the first place.

“You don’t just wake up one morning and fall out of love with someone.” Katya pulled back even more, the distance between them growing bigger as she got up from the bed and wandered over to the mini fridge. She shrugged off her denim jacket which fell to the floor. Pulling a beer from the cool confines, she cracked the ring-pull open with one swift, satisfying movement.

“It’s not that I don’t love you,” Trixie murmured, finally discarding the sucker somewhere on the bed. “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone more than you.”

“Then why are you giving up?” She took a sip of her beer. 

Despite the fact she was sitting down, Trixie could feel her feet throbbing in her six-inch heels. She leaned down, her chest feeling constricted against her fitted baby pink dress, and she could feel Katya’s eyes on her as she unbuckled the small clasp on one shoe, then the other, before jerking them off. 

“You can’t tell me this is healthy.” She sighed, emotionally exhausted. Trixie got up from the bed and made her way to the bag she had packed, pulling out a vintage Fleetwood Mac t-shirt that was three sizes too big. It sat on her like a dress, but she mainly used it to sleep in. Katya had seen her body thousands of times before, and had memorized every sunspot, every silvered stretch mark or blemish scar. She wasn’t too proud to hide herself now. She undid the zipper on the side of her skin-tight dress before peeling it down, her body fresh with indentations where the seams of the dress had dug in. 

She didn’t hear any footsteps, but jumped slightly the moment she felt Katya’s cold fingertips sooth where the zipper had pressed into her skin. The temperature of her hands had retained the chill of the beer she had just been holding. 

“Everybody fights.” Katya admitted with a faint shrug, and almost out of habit, Trixie pressed her back to the woman’s front – her body desperate for affirmation. 

The platinum blonde brushed her girlfriend’s golden locks over her right shoulder, before she began unclasping the woman’s dainty necklace that had gotten lost against the swerve of her collarbone. 

“Not like us.” Trixie reasoned, exhaling a long breath as her and Katya followed a routine they had nearly every night. The only evenings they had skipped it was when either one of them had stormed out – they’d always been cautious of going to bed mad, which seemed sacrilegious between them, but there had been a few times where it was unavoidable. 

“Nobody does anything like us.” Katya added, pressing a warm kiss to the sensitive spot just below Trixie’s ear. 

“The fights shouldn’t be praised –”

“I’m not praising the fights,” She clarified. “We’re one extreme to the other. We don’t do things halfway. If we fight, we fight hard,” Katya’s lips trailed down to Trixie’s shoulder as she skimmed her teeth against her flesh there, causing a small, pleasurable yelp from her counterpart. “If we love, we love hard.”

“Doesn’t it scare you…that there’s no _middle-ground_?”

“Maybe we’re not supposed to be stagnant or caught in a rut. That’s not us.”

“I wish it was,” Trixie breathed. “But I don’t know how to end this cycle, and I can’t keep hurting you – I can’t keep hurting myself.” She realised how selfishly that must have stung. But regardless, she shrugged Katya off, and slipped on her t-shirt before heading over to the bureau where a pack of discarded Parliament cigarettes sat, with a red lighter.

Trixie rarely smoked – she had that constant battle of conflict within her. She knew she was a hypocrite in that regard, but she desperately needed some reprieve, and this was a good excuse despite the fact that she probably wouldn’t even light one up. Pardoning herself, she closed the motel door behind her and padded out to the balcony, before taking a seat on the cold concrete balcony. She slipped her legs through the gaps in the weathered metal railing, watching as they dangled over the edge. 

She wondered briefly what it’d feel like to fall – to crash to the surface below and feel her bones colliding together in a sweet release. Mentally, she was in a far-off place that was so curdled with pain, most moments she felt as though she was losing herself. 

The door closed behind her, and Katya’s beer can slung in her hand. 

“I’m going out.” She concluded. 

“Where?” Trixie’s curiosity got the better of them, but there weren’t a lot of places to spend the night in this small Southern town. 

“Not sure yet.”

With that small talk, Katya was off down the stairs. Trixie threaded her feet back through and headed inside. She slipped on the clear heels she had just discarded, before grabbing har card, the motel keys and her phone. Upon her exit, she searched for any sign of Katya nearby, but she had already vanished. 

A faint sigh escaped her lips as she followed her girlfriend’s footsteps, the sound of her heels on the concrete harmoniously mixing with the cicadas singing in the distance. Her phone buzzed once. Twice. Three times. Her notifications came from her streaming platform – people incessantly asking if she was going live tonight. 

She typed in a quick disclaimer that something had ‘come up’ and was unable to stream. Her treads led her to the bar across the street, where men and women wore fringed chaps without a second glance, and their cowboy boots were scuffed from many hours of line dancing. 

She bought herself a beer, but the crackling music from the jukebox drove her headache to worsen within minutes, so she escaped to the smoker’s area, ironically for a breath of fresh air. There was only one other person out there to keep her company. Their hair was a luxe brunette that was so perfectly quaffed, and her makeup was so precise. She was gorgeous.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” She asked, shifting somewhat in her Pleaser heels

“How do you know whether you’re ready for the love of your life?” Trixie pondered aloud, turning to face the outside of the club. She aimlessly scraped the stiletto of her shoe against the concrete – shuffling somewhat as a habit of anxiety.

“Generally, when people ask themselves that, they’ve done something wrong.”

“I know I’m not a saint. We’re all just trying our best…” Trixie murmured, her fingertips gently skimming the jagged surface of exposed brick. 

“What’s your name?” Trixie asked, her eyes catching the same familiar shoes on the woman’s feet, that were also on her own.

“You can call me Jaida, honey.” She took a drag of her cigarette, ashing it on the ground below. “But to answer your question, I have no fucking clue. I haven’t met mine yet.”

Trixie sighed, knowing full well this wasn’t a subject that you necessarily posed to complete strangers, let alone a drag queen on a smoke break.

“I have two options; fight or flight.”

“So, pick one.”

Jaida’s brashness caused her to grin – she appreciated the ‘no bullshit’ trait that she seemed to have, respected it even. Whenever someone was so blunt with her, she was certain they were being honest. No one could lie that bluntly. 

“I think we’re kind of similar, you know?” Trixie quipped.

“How so?”

“I pile on makeup, tease my hair up real high, and perform to entertain people.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a cam girl.”

Trixie’s gaze wandered the seedy alleyway as she watched Jaida’s exhales smoke up the air around them. Her eyes caught on to the park just across the street and noticed the familiar sprawl of nearly white blonde hair shining below a streetlight. There was no other highway option than to bite her tongue and properly speak to Katya.

The Barbie reached into her pocket and pulled out a $10 bill, hand it directly into Jaida’s free hand. 

“I didn’t get to see you perform, but I’m sure you’re everything.”

Jaida tucked the note into her bra, just beneath the sponge padding.

“You better believe it, baby girl…and good luck.”

Trixie gave her a final nod as she crossed the distance of the street, towards her girlfriend. The strong beat of her heart radiated to the point where she swore she could almost hear it racing.

“I think we should talk, properly.” Trixie took a seat in the black rubber swing beside Katya who was barely moving back and forth now. 

“You mean you’re actually going to communicate with me?” She sighed.

It was a small blow that stung her heart, but she had to work through the venom – suck the blood out from her own wound, metaphorically speaking. Trixie wondered if there would ever be anyone to walk into her life where verbalising her emotions would be as effortless as brushing her teeth. Her mind felt broken at times, the constant need for space to allow her brain to connect the dots. It would take her a second, but she would always get there with Katya.

“I’m going to try.”

There was a beat of silence that was filled by the faint sounds of the neighbourhood. They didn’t meet each other’s gaze, rather opting to stare at the dirt padding their shoes instead. It ached to not even search for answers in the eyes of the woman she loved, but she knew she’d break down if she did. 

The cicadas had quietened to a distant hum, as Trixie twisted back and forth slightly with a small creak from the rusted metal swing chords. Katya was patient. It was a kindness that allowed her to think, piecing sentences together.

She reminisced back to the beginning of their relationship – the essay long text messages they’d send to each other that put their bare bones on display, showcasing the deepest thoughts they had. There was a certain safety that Trixie felt with Katya; a connection she was desperate to keep alive for as long as she could, knowing that nothing lasted forever – not the good, nor the bad.

What if they truly had reached the end of the tether?

“I’m scared,” Trixie finally admitted, not only to Katya but to herself as well. “I feel like – no, I know I’m projecting my fears on to this relationship.” Her hands gripped the metal slightly harder, steadying herself now as her thoughts merged into perfect sentences. “We all have baggage. We all have a past. I was so scared of history repeating itself or my own lack of personal growth that I unfairly became someone I thought you wanted me to be.”

Her words hung in the air as Katya mulled them over. She didn’t respond irrationally.

“Trixie, I don’t expect anything from you,” There was no anger in her tone, but it was tinged with a sense of defeat. “And I don’t want you to expect anything from me. We live our lives, side by side, but have each other to come home to at the end of the day. That’s our narrative of love. It shouldn’t have to fit any textbook standards, because it’s _ours_ and nobody can take that away from us.”

Their relationship had been one that some would say burned too brightly, too fast – like striking a match too soon with the flame creeping down to singe one’s fingertips in a matter of seconds. Some would chance it and linger longer until the flame inevitably met skin with a sharp scorch, others would blow it out before it even got the chance to come close to their cells.

In this moment, she was forced to choose which course of action to take. Her mind and her heart were at odds with each other, one telling her to snuff out the flame immediately, whilst the opposition waited patiently for the burn. 

It was comforting to hear that Katya expected the least from Trixie, better yet, nothing at all. In relationships prior, she had been forced to adhere to an almost concrete set of prospects that forced her to put her life on hold. Things were different with Katya, and it was unfair to lump her in with her past relationship failures. They were both dealing with those previous traumas and had hiccups along the way of self-growth. To put it plainly in this moment, Trixie was sure that Katya was one of her soulmates, but she just prayed it wasn’t one who came into her life to teach her a lesson – though that’s what her thoughts lied to her daily. It was fear in its purest form.

“I appreciate that, I really do.” Trixie breathed, her teeth tugging at the inside of her lower lip – her thoughts like a freight train ploughing through her head right now. 

“We are not our past,” Katya continued. “We have to try and not let that get in the way. You’re not who you were a couple of years ago, nor am I.”

The platinum blonde leaned up somewhat and rummaged around her back pocket for her pack of cigarettes. Force of habit, she picked one out despite them all being slightly squashed from where she’d kept them safe. She shuffled to check her front pockets for a lighter but came up empty. Before she could even complain, Trixie reached into her bra, just beneath the bust of her dress and pulled out Katya’s bright red Bic. She inclined over to her girlfriend, clicking open the lighter to ignite the flame. Katya leant in, inhaling with a faint crackle of nicotine. 

“Sometimes we feel like no one wants to love damaged goods, but we don’t ever ask about the people who damaged them in the first place.”

“Who you were a couple of years ago involves who you loved at the time, and I’m not about to judge you for that when my exes weren’t exactly idyllic.”

Katya’s comment brought a faint grin to Trixie’s lips. It helped to hear that, of course it helped. But it didn’t placate the feeling of defeat that stirred deep inside her still. She had grown so much as a person, but there was always still more soul searching to do.

“What the hell do we do?” Trixie sighed as she aimlessly toyed with the trigger on her lighter; igniting and immediately snuffing the flame, like the metaphor that lingered in her mind. 

“Tell me we’ll make it through.” Katya exhaled, the smoke was a stark contrast to the blackness of night, lit only by a feeble streetlight. Despite her strong front, Katya’s chest ached – she wanted to plead to make her stay, but there was no point in begging someone who had already made up their mind. 

Silence.

“I’d like to go home.” Trixie mustered up, clearing her throat. Katya pulled out the motel key and tossed it her way. The honey blonde caught it with utter precision.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

Katya watched Trixie wander down the slight hill of the park, her heels annoyingly digging into the grass – but she walked ever so perfectly. She took another drag, and anxiously tapped her thumb against the filter of the cigarette.

There was something in the back of her mind that screamed at her, telling her to chase after the woman she loved. But she stayed put. She would finish her cigarette and walk back to the motel ten minutes after, her fingertips trailing against the mesh wire fence that lined the road. She took her time, knowing full well that Trixie would have taken off her makeup, preened herself with a skincare routine and would be rousing sleep on top of the beaten up spring-loaded mattress. 

She stood on the end of her cigarette to extinguish the burn, and took her leave from the small park, heading back down the pathway towards the motel as envisioned. After climbing the rickety stairs to the room, she noticed the door ajar with the bolt lock wedged between the plaster to hold it open just an inch. She pried it open.

“Trix?”

No answer.

Her eyes scanned the bed first, and it was empty, they then flashed to the bathroom where the tap was still ceaselessly dripping without a single sign of her girlfriend. It finally hit her that Trixie’s clothes that littered the room only hours ago were now gone, as was the duffel bag she had brought with her.

She was alone.

* * *

_8 years later._

The shelves of the grocery store were entirely full, with overstock towering above, despite workplace health and safety. It was entirely Trixie’s fault for running out to pick up something last minute on Christmas Eve, but she couldn’t finish her baking without icing sugar – it was the festive season after all, and she’d be damned if her gingerbread men weren’t decorated. 

She’d grown extremely fond of baking over the years, almost using it as a form of meditation to help her unwind. She had turned 30 this year, and desperately sought out much calmer ways of going about her day. Most of her time was spent tutoring guitar to elementary school students in the afternoons. Drinking alcohol was only really done as a glass of wine with dinner, and smoking was completely off the table now. She had truly settled down into a comfortable flow of life.

Her eyes glazed over at the abundance of baking ingredients which ranged from everything such as chocolate chips, to boxed fondant. She scanned the rows of shelves, desperately searching for a mere bag of confectioners’ sugar, and to no avail. 

She huffed upwards, and the sudden draught parted her golden blonde bangs. Maybe she needed to ask a store clerk for assistance – there was the potential that the shelves just hadn’t been refilled. Glancing around desperately, she tried to garner the attention of a staff member in a Gelson’s uniform. Instead, she noticed someone else.

“Katya?”

The woman turned slightly to her side. Her platinum blonde hair had grown out even longer, hitting close to Trixie’s own length at her waist. From what she could see of her arms underneath the sheer black sleeves of her dress, she was now peppered with black ink tattoos. She was radiant, and now had the new edition of thick black rimmed glasses that she used to read a paper list, before sliding them off the bridge of her nose for her eyes to adjust to the sight of her ex-girlfriend.

“Trixie?”

Katya caught sight of the teardrop shaped diamond sitting on the fourth finger of Trixie’s left hand. The gem danced a tiny iridescent rainbow under the nearly clinical cool toned lights of the store. A lot had changed since they last saw each other.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @iqkittygirl


End file.
